Paper Flowers (Pretty Plastic People) ★

029. One Down

"Deserves to know?" Spencer roars. "Stay out of my relationships, will you?"

Eyes wide, I squint to see past a smudge in the window. Any minute now either of them could look over and see me, but right now I'm too desperate to understand what they're talking about to care. If the blackmailer is right, then Spencer's secret has something to do with that night last summer. But why? And who's to say my blackmailer's right, anyway?

Technically, she could be making everything up just to get under my skin—to set me some impractical task that she knows is doomed to fail. But how likely is that? I know she would rather see me ruin my friends—and myself in the process.

Taylor rakes his hand through his hair. "I can't stay out of your relationship," he snaps. "It concerns me, too."

"I can't break up with her, Taylor. Don't you understand? Can't you see I—"

Shivering, I lose my balance and slip on the freshly watered grass, my palms slamming into the glass. Both boys' eyes shoot over to the window; Spencer looks like he's seen a ghost but Taylor merely widens his eyes passively.

"Looks like you'll be telling her soon, anyway," he says easily, striding out of the living room. At first I contemplate running away, but Taylor simply pokes his head out the front door and says, "Come on in, Erika."

I glance back through the living window, at Spencer who is pacing circles around the sofa. Then I follow Taylor inside. A blast of warmth hits me and I rub my hands against my shirt to force some feeling back into them.

When Spencer and I make eye contact, he immediately looks down at the carpet, his eyebrows drawn close together. Before I can say anything to me he pushes past me and heads for the front door. "I'm sure Taylor will tell you everything, anyway," he calls over his shoulder as the door slams shut behind him.

"Why are you here?" Taylor asks as we watch Spencer's car pull out of the driveway.

For a fraction of a second I wonder whether to tell him about my situation—then I remember my blackmailer's threat and the idea that he's one of my suspects. "I just—I wanted to stop by," I say finally, grabbing at the first thing that comes to mind.

"Why?"

Sitting down on the couch, I bury my face in my hands. "I'm just confused. Spencer and I are together but someone's been tipping me off—that he's lying about what happened that night between you and Allison. I don't know who to trust."

Every word I've said is true, and I know Taylor can tell because his steely dark eyes grow soft. Carefully, he sits down on the couch beside me, so that I can feel how close he is to me. "You're right," he murmurs. "He has been lying to you."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah." He reaches forward and tucks my hair behind my ear. This familiar gesture—something he's always done to me—both grounds and unnerves me.

I think back to how well Spencer has always treated me, how safe he's felt. How of all people, I haven't worried about him lying to me or betraying me since I read that letter he wrote. But now, this could change everything.

Taylor is still watching me, and I can still feel the shadow of where his hand had brushed my cheek seconds ago. I stare down at my fingers, wringing them together and cracking each of my knuckles one by one. Then I ask, "What really happened?"

"I don't like talking about that night." He leans back on the couch, resting both of his arms around the back. "I screwed up as badly as everyone else. Maybe worse. But you already know what I did wrong and I guess it doesn't hurt to tell you about someone else."